


Deviation for Dummies

by SpicyAngst



Series: Deviation for Dunces [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Connor-centric, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, POV Third Person, Post-Game(s), Red Ice (Detroit: Become Human), Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Thirium (Detroit: Become Human), definitely not beta read, emphasis on kinda, kinda self-discovery?, revamp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26388346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyAngst/pseuds/SpicyAngst
Summary: Freedom for androids comes quickly after the revolution but life for deviants doesn't get much easier. Missing persons cases and android homicides are steadily rising up all over Detroit, and Hank and Connor will need all the help they can get. A good tempered officer is willing to help.If only Connor's stupid, newfound feelings for his medic could stop getting in the way of him doing his job.
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Original Female Character(s), Hank Anderson & Connor
Series: Deviation for Dunces [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1917835
Kudos: 4





	Deviation for Dummies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the Cume Beangeon server](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+Cume+Beangeon+server).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LETS GOOOO D4D REVAMP IS HERE BABYYYyYyy!!!!!11!!!!!!1!
> 
> quick disclaimer, this ISN'T a sequel. this is a rewritten vers of my old fic that was /also/ called Deviation for Dummies. considering I wrote the first eight chapters two years ago, I'm hoping to refine a lot of what I had before and make this readable again. big thank you to my friends who graciously enabled my robo thirst again, two years after the fallout of the first fic. love you all!
> 
> hope you enjoy!

For many months, Detroit’s Police Department had been in a state of constant change. Despite what everyone thought before, the physical remnants of anti-android policies were the easiest to unwind. Money stuff. Armbands and triangles were quickly removed from the clothing that hadn’t been burned in the camps. Reeducation seminars were held, meetings had week long streaks. Humans were harder. On the day the android liberation treaty was signed by congress, a third of ‘Detroit’s finest’ put up their hats and left the precinct in droves. That day, the doors were open as wide as the hinges would allow while officers packed up and left. Captain Fowler stood outside the dimming parking lot, watching the newly resigned go with a weathered expression. Among them were faces he’d known since before he’d retired from the air force. He nodded into his collar, his hands in his pockets. That night, he closed up the precinct alone.

New faces came in to replace them. Some autonomous, some not. Almost none of them were specially built for the profession. Still, the handful of android’s who had the guts to subject themselves to the first few weeks of the laws’ conception were some of the bravest in their ranks. They were properly welcomed with time. After all, the DPD needed all the help they could get. With how much they’d lost, they couldn’t afford to look a gift horse in the mouth.

The days of freedom stretched into weeks. Anti-android protests writhed outside the precinct doors. Fights broke out often. HR was swimming in complaints and dispute papers. Many days you’d find the android staff working their asses off for a fighting chance. Overtime became the ‘greenie-baton,’ endowing the holder with their daily dose of respect so the next guy had an easier time. Rest was almost never an option. And of course no working android was a stranger to open discrimination. The only difference now was that they had the law on their side. Sometimes.

Connor didn’t have the option of letting any of that slow him down.

Stepping into the bullpen, he took a moment to look around. Most of the desks were empty and cleared off, only about five occupants. Another quiet day in the office. An android officer brushed past him in a hurry, interrupting the still. He glanced at his own desk, gauging the amount of beeping dots he’d come back to after the meeting was over. Lieutenant Anderson stomped past him in a huff, eyes fixed on the Captain’s office. He’d been in a huff since they woke up this morning.

Four months, four days and nineteen hours ago, Connor had officially moved in with his weathered partner. After Hank blew up at him for suggesting he could sleep in Jericho’s wreckage, he was informed that he’d be crashing on the lieutenant’s couch until further notice. He spent most of his first day home in the kitchen, finalizing his status as an employed deviant at the table for hours on end. Thankfully as the lieutenant's partner, Connor wasn’t required to do much additional pushing to keep the job. A bit of paperwork was nothing the android couldn’t handle.

The morning had started off as low energy as always, the lieutenant’s usual lifestyle preference. Connor remembered the stinging smell of Hank’s favorite scotch whiskey that remained after the night before and powering up again to find a set of jowls and slimy drool sliding down his neck. He let out a startled yelp, gently pushing the heavy mass away, worried the affectionate blanket would cause his chest cavity to cave in. Of course, the cloudy saliva was another motivator to get the android up and at ‘em. Soft fur brushed under and over his fingers as he struggled.

“...Sumo.” He realized. The android tried to roll over, only to feel the saint bernard plant a paw on his shoulder. “Sumo please.” He insisted, his voice fluctuating as the rest of him woke up. Various diagnostics popped up on his HUD like ads, alerting him of the dent in his ‘belly,’ and the lack of circulation in his lower everything. He sat up, shifting just so Sumo could readjust. The dog kept his massive head firm on his chest, letting out a deep huff in the android’s face. He wiped a dot of spittle from his cheek and smiled fondly down at the big fluffy blanket. Sumo was lucky he liked dogs.

Connor’s daily ministrations were still slowly forming into something vaguely human. Pet sumo, get out of bed/couch, feed Sumo, and prepare for work. His eyes roved over the living room, adjusting to the light flitting in from behind the blinds. They blinked out of sync until his inner workings had settled to a low rumble. The yellow glint of his LED just out of sight softened to a light blue against Sumo’s big cow-eyes. Silently pleading that he not get up just yet. With the current state of the clock, it looked like he’d have to disappoint him this morning. Much to be done. He reluctantly pulled himself out from under the dog’s rolls of fur and fat, patting Sumo’s back and getting to his feet. The dog followed his plastic bed to his bowl.

Hank woke up to the noise of kibble being shook out of a ziplock bag. Scratching his belly with a sigh, he made his way to the kitchen, barely registering the shower-fresh android hard at work on some fabric by the sink. Scrubbing something off his jacket. Connor didn’t look up from his work.

“Good morning lieutenant.”

The lieutenant couldn’t bother to make much more than a groan. Coffee first. The bottle of ibuprofen shook behind him into an empty mug. One of Hank’s homemade, terribly unhealthy hangover remedies. Connor paused to hit the button on the coffee machine when the lieutenant trudged over to get his daily liquid-life. Hank managed a slurred, “thanks, son,” and let the pot bubble for the morning’s white noise. Connor felt the man pat his arm in extra thanks while he continued to work.

“What’d’ja do to your suit?” he grumbled. The pot beeped out a little tune when Connor replied,

“Sumo had it in for my lapel.”

The lieutenant glanced over at the couch where Connor’s lone quilt was folded into a triangle. Looked like there was a halo of dog fur around where the android had been in stasis. He snorted and reached for his mug.

“Good dog.” The saint bernard chuffed up at him from the kitchen floor. “Probably for the best. Been tellin’ you to go clothes shopping for weeks now-- Just go get one of mine outta the closet.” 

Connor frowned, dabbing at the shoulder seam.

“I like my suit.”

Hank hummed into his mug. “You might like it more with a little color. Or at least some new pants.” The android glanced at his jeans.

“What’s wrong with my pants?”

The lieutenant didn’t answer, taking another swig. “Whatever. ‘Might just take you to a Target after work today so you’ll stop dressing like a private school prick.”

The android considered this. He wouldn’t go out often with the lieutenant, outside of missions. Hank didn’t miss the eye roll though. So he gets to nursing his coffee in the living room, asking,

“Did Fuckler ever get back to you on why we’re up at six thirty on a weekend?”

The android shrugs, laying the suit jacket out flat with a flick of his wrist. 

“Haven’t heard a thing, lieutenant.” 

“Fuckin’ of course.” Hank stretches out in his recliner, a hair away from spilling black coffee all over the carpet. “Watch, he’s gonna ask me to fill out the extra follow up reports since I’ve ‘made myself useful.” Connor sighs from the kitchen, folding the arms back to remove the extra dog hair while he’s at it. His fingers pick at the tufts in deliberate pinches, eyes tracing the fabric for bigger clumps. “Maybe I’ll wait a little longer,” Hank considers aloud. By which he meant, he’d make them both late. “Keep him on his toes. Maybe take a nice _loong_ bath.”

The android throws his partner a stern look.

“You know you shouldn’t risk your job like that.”

There’s a big creak from the recliner. “Ah, he wouldn’t even think of losing another advantage. ‘Specially not now.” A volley of popping joints follows Hank out of the living room and down the hallway. He takes his mug with him, presumably to finish it in the shower. Over the androids shoulder he heard a faint, “Make sure you get that crap off before we leave!” The loud _kksh_ of the shower handle lags behind his partner’s warning. 

As Connor crossed back into the living room, he flicked out the freshly cleaned jacket and admired his work. Setting it on the back of the couch, he replied,

“Already done!”

_. ..//Memory Replayed!//. ._

_Would You Like to Watch Again? [ -X- ] [∆]_

Stepping into the captain’s office was just like opening a meat freezer. Cold, quiet, and unnecessarily uneasy. His nearly spotless desk sat directly under the air conditioner and, as an added bonus, emanated raw power. Fowler didn’t talk to himself, he didn’t call people in often. Very ‘no nonsense’ about his work and impressively organized. You wouldn’t find a piece of lint out of place in that whole office if you tried. So the (un)lucky few ordered inside were understandably tense.

Once Lieutenant Anderson shut the door behind him, the quiet inside had thickened into a palpable silence. He was quick to catch on that the something he was late for could be… possibly worth waking up at six in the morning.

Deep set eyes bored into Hank and his partner from the powerful desk, the white light fixture above illuminating a thoroughly pissed Captain Fowler. Sat in front of him was a young woman, holding an assortment of documents to her chest. When she noticed the new people, she stood to attention, her hands dropping to her sides. Underneath her tattered jacket, Hank noticed the navy blue of an officer’s uniform.

He knew Connor was already taking in her details from behind him. The not-so-subtle whir of his spinning LED was a dead giveaway. 

_. ..// Scanning Face… //. . .._

_Lind, Mary. Born 2/18/2013. Police Officer._

_Criminal record: None._

She was shorter than the average officer, her dark hair pulled back into an almost neat half-bun. Simple but decidedly pretty, all while fashioning the wide-eyed gaze of a greenhorn rookie. Average in many ways if not for her almost theatrically exhausted expression. Connor couldn’t say he’d seen her around the precinct before.

“Sorry for the wait, Jeffery,” Hank said, not very sorry. He was still currently sizing up the female officer with a frown. The captain squinted at him with all the glaring contempt in his body as he continued, “‘Didn’t know we had anybody waiting on us, alright?”  
  
Fowler looked the lieutenant up and down.

“I can see that.” He tuts.

The two were already raring for a steadily approaching argument. It was only 7:45. Seemed they’d be here for a while.

Despite the tension, Fowler sighed into his hand and looked at his desk with a deadening gaze, eventually turning to the officer to apologize. He said he was sorry for the wait, and introduced her as officer Mary Lind. She’d recently transitioned from recruit to officer, around six months ago. Just before the deviant revolution. According to Fowler, Lind was one of the department’s higher performing employees. New as ever but steadily building a reputation for herself with every new assignment. A hard hitter, real light on her feet. The ‘Tasmanian devil’ of her peers, the captain said, with the last drops of his allotted daily enthusiasm. 

The officer gave them both a polite smile and waved from where she stood.

“Good morning.” She said, “Great to get to meet you, Lieutenant Anderson. And you’re the lieutenant’s partner?”

Lind had a friendly voice, the kind you found in preschool classrooms or carnival booths, definitely not precincts. Not that Connor had many voices to go off of besides the various assholes and drunkards he’d had the pleasure of working with, (his partner being proudly both.) He watched her speak, privately sifting through the various pop ups of information he’d scrounged up from her appearance and background check. She looked tired. Connor spared his partner a glance as he held out his hand.

“Good morning. My name is Connor. It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Miss Lind.”

Her smile brightens.

“Connor? Great name.”

“You too.” He says. She seemed to like that.

Their hands connect lightly, and the android adjusts to the warmth. He still isn’t quite used to touching, yet. Her palms are only just clammy enough for him to notice. Nerves, he wonders? He can feel her pulse from where his fingers dip into her jacket. When she feels two cold fingertips press into her wrist she pulls away with a gentle squeeze. Her eyes linger on his face. Connor stares back, confused. He wonders if checking was too much. If her heart was any indication, she might even be a little scared. He doesn’t stare back long enough to get her verdict.

Alternatively, Hank gave her his best curt nod.

“It’s nice and all to meet a new addition,” He huffs, “but I’ve got a feeling Lind isn’t just here for the compliments.” 

The captain started slow.

For the time being, Officer Lind had been assigned to Hank and Connor as an extra precaution. Another aid in the field. Hank was still capable, Fowler assured, more than capable. He would still get to be in charge. Lind would just have to stay near them in the case of Connor being damaged. Why?

There were many complications that came with Connor staying Hank’s partner. One of them being the unfortunate fact that Connor became literally irreplaceable. Winning his freedom from the previous owners of Cyberlife had taken lots of paperwork, patience and persuasion of his sentience. Cyberlife in general no longer supplied DPD with RK800s (or any androids for that matter,) and if Connor were to be damaged or deactivated in an accident, the department would lose one of their most important assets. Not only that, but the prospects of implanting his consciousness in an already existing model raised some... ethical concerns. 

There was already a lack of staff. There was absolutely no losing Connor if they could help it.

This was where Lind came in.

“You might know a ‘Monica S.’ Lind, she was part of the design team at Cyberlife.” Connor began searching the internet. He was greeted by an older looking woman with deep brown curls. Connor estimated she was just a little younger than Hank. “Retired two years ago. She happened to own several androids, and _also_ happened to pass down all that mechanical know-how to her daughter.” All eyes in the room fell on Officer Lind, who was looking a little bashful. 

“No shit.” Hank says.

“She's been tested by some engineering officials we had cabbed in and passed with flying colors. Professionally trained in android repairs since she could walk. First aid, mechanical and organic, all good. ‘Don’t think she’s stopped moving since she graduated.” Fowler continues, listing the officer’s accomplishments off of a piece of cardstock.

“So, what-- you’re telling me this Lind kid is gonna be Connor’s _doctor_?”

“More like an onhand EMT.” She pipes up, folding her hands in front of her. “The pipe greasing, the patch jobs. Emergency, line of action things. I’ll just be there so that Connor here,” She gestures toward the quiet android, “makes it to his next shift.”

“Right,” The captain agrees. “So do you see what I’m saying?”

“I _see_ that you’re dropping another fucking responsibility on my ass!” Hank shouts. Officer Lind doesn’t move. “You got me stuck with one kid already, I’m not gonna babysit another ‘asset,’ Jeff! God, I just got used to dipshit over there, now you’re telling me I’ve gotta manage more than one?” Dipshit’s brows knit.

“Lieutenant--?”

“ _Shut_ up, Connor,” He snaps. “You honestly think I can handle more day-slash-night-care!?”

“Hank, you’ve got a lot of nerve bitching about a fucking _favor_ .” Fowler shot back at him. “It’s not like you have to deal with another android. Lind’s got a good head on her shoulders, she doesn’t need you to keep her in check.” Lind shifts where she stands, uncomfortable. “And nobody _asked_ you to take care of him, Hank.” Fowler added, “You’re the one who kept him as your partner.” The smug smirk he sends the lieutenant’s way almost sends Hank off the handle.

He anchors himself to Fowler’s desk to keep himself from wringing his neck. It was true that he had an unfortunate habit of fathering Connor around, most of the department having seen it first hand on multiple occasions. ‘Connor, you’ll hurt yourself,’ or ‘Quit fuckin’ with that coin, kid.’ With the decades-old dad jokes and the almost painful claps on the shoulder, it was a miracle Connor didn’t just call him ‘Lieutenant Dad.’ Hell, even Hank would call the android by the forbidden ‘s’ word. But god forbid anyone should mention it, lest they wanted to invoke Hank’s defensive fury and watch him stomp away with the clueless robot in tow.

“But why?” He groaned into his shoulder. “Why'd you hafta make such a big deal about this? It's so early..."

"You'd give me grief if I sent her alone anyway. It was better to get it over with, knowing you."

"Actually," Hank scowls, "More importantly, if she’s so fucking new, why didn't you find a more ‘experienced’ officer? Like a detective?” Hank’s air quotes were wide enough to stretch across the Captain’s desk. 

Fowler smacks his fist on the desk. Connor watches the officer flinch.

“Because you’ll need her if the android’s going to remain your partner! Or do you understand ‘because I said so’ better?” Hank stares back at him resentfully, convinced he was doomed to end up worse for wear in some way or another. Nothing good ever came of working with kids. “You’ve already pissed yourself off enough. There’s plenty of new cases for you to cool off on.” Connor perked up from his corner of the office. “Two calls for android homicides and one potentially dangerous anti-android protest--”

“More of ‘em?” Hank interrupted. “We had to take care of a domestic case with a few androids just yesterday.”

“And there's more on the way I'm sure,” The captain rubbed at his eyebags with a grimace. “Take your pick, I’ll have someone send Connor the coordinates before you leave.”

Lind raises a hand and asks quietly,

“Now, captain?”

“Now.” 

She drops her hand and straightens out her jacket, already running through her belongings. Connor sees the corner of a thirium bag peeking out of her front pocket. Seems she came at least somewhat prepared.

“I’ll take the nearest one. Homicide could probably wake me up a little better than caffeine,” Connor opened his mouth to inform the lieutenant that if Hank ingested any more caffeine, he may double over before they could even get out the door. He was interrupted before he could speak. “You coming with us, rookie?” Officer Lind stared at him for a moment, her face slackening. It took her a moment to respond.

“Wait, in your car?”

“No,” Hank snorted, “On a tandem fucking bicycle.” 

She flushes pink, looking down at her boots in embarrassment. 

“That’d be great... Uh, thank you, very much, lieutenant.” The words come out stilted but Hank shrugs.

“Don’t mention it. Just hurry up and get in the car before they solve the case without us.”

Officer Lind started telling the Captain goodbye, setting the papers in her hand on his desk, and gathering up her belongings. Hank went and waited by the door with Connor, who was still quietly observing the young officer. Any rude words from before didn’t seem to affect her. In fact, she looks excited, shifting back and forth on her legs. She’s already crossing to the door by the time she says,

“Sorry about that.” Extra emphasis on that. “‘We all ready?”

The lieutenant nods and brushes past Connor through the door.

“Let’s get going.” He said. “C’mon, Connor.”

The android jogged out of the room after him, holding the door open for Lind. She gave him a smile and a ‘thank you, sir.’ Connor hadn’t been called sir for as long as he would remember. Fascinating. Kind of her.

“I don’t remember saying I was coming with you.” Captain Fowler announced, trying to get back to his work. It was a bit hard to focus with Connor weirdly staring after the unaware officer.

“Right…” He murmured, not taking his eyes off the two humans. They were almost out the door. “I’m sorry, Captain. Have a nice day.”

Fowler returned to his work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! <3


End file.
